The Truth About Felicity
by pameblina
Summary: After being part of Team Arrow for almost two years Felicity decides to tell Oliver and Dig the truth about her past. A little bit of Olicity. I own nothing. No beta, all mistakes are mine.
1. Chapter 1

Oliver and Dig were sparring when she arrived at the basement below Verdant. She watched them as she walked down the stairs. Her nervousness propelled her forward and she stood next to the mat, awkwardly waiting for them to notice her. After a few seconds she swallowed, took in a shaky breath, and cleared her throat.

The two men stopped and looked at her.

"Um, so…" she licked her lips. "I need to talk to you about something. And ask a favor. You don't have to say yes, to the favor, I mean. I do need you to say yes to the talking about something though. In fact I'm not really giving you an option because it's something that you really need to know that I've been thinking about telling you for a long time, but I never really knew how."

Her ramble came to an end and stretched into silence.

"You can tell us anything," Dig finally said. "We're a team."

Felicity felt the weight behind her eyes of impending tears. "That's exactly why I need to talk to you."

"Are you quitting?" Olive blurted.

"Smooth," Dig said softly.

She gave a small laugh. "No, "I'm not quitting. It's just that we've been working together for over a year and there are some things I need to come clean about."

Oliver and Dig exchanged a look.

"I didn't do anything illegal," she hurried to say. "Well, not anything besides what I do regularly for you two. Which, in my mind, I justify because it's for the greater good, not recreational."

"Felicity."

She gave Oliver a thank you nod and continued on. "Every year I take a trip to Gotham City. I'm going this weekend and I'd like both of you to come with me. Please."

"Are you propositioning us?" Oliver asked with a smirk.

Felicity forced a smile. "I'm going to see my mom."

They both started talking at once. She held her hands up to pause the onslaught.

"Don't be mad!"

"You told us your mom was dead," Dig said. "That your whole family was dead."

"And that wasn't entirely true." She shrugged.

Another silence dragged over them.

"Why don't Dig and I get cleaned up; we'll order some takeout and talk."

Felicity nodded. "Good idea. It's kind of a long story."

#

"I was grateful you never did a background check on me." Felicity said as they ate their burgers and fries. "Because if you had I would have had to discuss this at the beginning and… I wasn't ready for you to know then."

"What would a background check have told me?" Oliver asked.

"That Felicity Smoak isn't my real name. I changed it when I was 18 in an attempt to hide from my past." Her words were matter-of-fact, but he could see how nervous she was.

"What's your real name?" Dig asked.

Felicity sighed. Oliver put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I was born and raised in Gotham City and my real name is Felicity Copperton."

Dig swore under his breath. Oliver gave him a confused look.

"You never heard about the Copperton Slaughter?"

He shook his head.

"In a nutshell," Felicity said, her voice devoid of emotion. "My mother, Gloria Copperton, killed my father, my two younger brothers and attempted to kill me."

His mouth fell open.

It was as if a dam broke inside her and words came rushing out. "My mom and dad met their first day of college in their first class of the day. Apparently it was love at first sight. Two weeks later they were engaged. They got married over Christmas break. The next fall I was born. My twin brothers came a couple of years later." Tears stood out in her bright blue eyes. "We were happy, you know?"

Oliver and Dig waited, neither one daring to interrupt.

"It happened when I was 5. It was a Tuesday, I remember. It had been raining that morning, but the sun had finally come out and Dad was helping us all get our shoes on so we could go out and play. Mom came in wearing a yellow sundress. I don't know why I remember that, but I do. I thought she looked so beautiful. Her hair was wild and curly and stood out like a halo as she stood in the doorway with the sun shining behind her."

Her voice still held no emotion, but tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Dad stood up, sensing something was wrong. And she shot him. Three times. The sound was terrifying. My brothers both started crying and I – I just sat there like a scared rabbit. I couldn't move. I watched her walk over to my brothers and shoot each of them in turn."

A ragged breath tore through her and Oliver scooted toward her and gripped her hand.

"She walked over to me, held the gun flush to my forehead, and told me the angels had been speaking to her. They told her that we were too good for this world. That she needed to send us back to heaven.

"Then she pulled the trigger."

Her eyes slowly met his and Oliver stared back at her with calm reassurance.

"Nothing happened. The gun was out of bullets. The police arrived while she was standing on the driveway getting the bullets out of her trunk, preparing to reload so she could come in and finish me off. At her trial she was found not guilty by reason of insanity and they put her in Arkham Asylum."

"What happened to you?" Dig asked.

She looked at him as if she'd forgotten anyone else was there. "I was bounced from foster home to foster home. Everyone knew who I was. It wasn't the kind of famous you want to be. So at 18 I changed my name and put Gotham behind me."

"You don't have any other family?" Oliver asked quietly.

"Mom was adopted by an older couple who passed away before I was born. Dad's parents died in a car accident when I was 3."

"Your mom." Dig cleared his throat. "They ever say why she did it?"

"Schizophrenia."

The two men nodded and looked at one another.

"So," her voice shook. "Now that you know the truth will you come with me to Gotham this weekend? Please."


	2. Chapter 2

"So you do this once a year?" Dig asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"On her birthday." Felicity looked out the window. "I never talk to her, but I bring a gift."

Oliver had offered to fly them to Gotham, but Felicity had insisted they drive. She needed the rhythm of the road to calm her down. It was almost a five hour drive, but neither of her boys complained. They were good to her like that.

"Why don't you talk to her?" Oliver turned from his place in shotgun to look at her.

"What's there to say?"

"But you still bring a gift." He was staring at her as though she were a puzzle to solve.

"The same one every year. An artist's notebook and colored pencils. She was," Felicity paused for a second. "She _is_ an artist."

Dig and Oliver looked at one another, neither one knowing what to say.

"Let's change the subject," Felicity said with forced brightness. "How are you and Carly, Dig?"

#

Felicity insisted on paying for everything, but explained to Oliver it would mean staying in a hotel well below Queen standards.

"Probably for the best," he assured her. "I'll fly under the radar better in an out of the way place compared to a 5-star joint."

They got two hotel rooms that connected with a door. As he and Dig unpacked in their shared room Oliver tried to think of ways to slip Felicity money without her noticing. For some reason it really bothered him that she insisted on paying for everything. He wanted to help her and money had always been the one way he could.

Felicity knocked on the door between their rooms and Dig opened it. "Visiting hours start tomorrow at 10," she said. "I figured we'd go for breakfast at 9 or so, go to Arkham, and then after we can go to lunch or head home, whatever you guys want."

"Let's see how you feel tomorrow," Oliver said. "This trip is about you."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "Thanks for coming guys. It means a lot to me."

"Of course," Dig said. "We'd do anything for you, Felicity, you know that."

Oliver agreed.

She nodded, happy tears in her eyes. "Mind if I leave the door between us open? I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Why don't you hang out in here until you get tired," Oliver offered. "We can watch some bad TV."

Without a words, she ran and jumped on his bed, bouncing around him until he got up and joined her. "Come on, Dig!" she yelled.

He laughed and held up his hands. "I'm going for a quick run. You tow have fun with your bed jumping."

"Party pooper!" Felicity called after him.

She jumped over to Dig's bed and looked at Oliver. "I bet I can jump higher than you."

"I'd rather not get a concussion on this low ceiling."

With a laugh, she fell back on the bed. "I haven't done that in years."

Oliver jumped to the floor and sat down. "Me neither. Not since Thea was a kid, I bet."

"I wish they had a room with three beds," she said absently. "That would be more fun."

"First time someone has thought _separate_ beds equals more fun." Oliver joked.

"Well we could all share the one king in my room." Felicity raised her eyebrow and bit her lip to stop her smile.

"Not the three-way I've fantasized about."

"Really?" She feigned shock. "I'm pretty sure it would be most women's fantasy – you and Dig."

"But not yours?" he teased.

She sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed so their knees almost touched. "I'm a one man at a time kind of girl."

"Anyone filling that spot at the moment?" His voice was softer than he'd intended. The moment suddenly became more intimate.

"You know there isn't." She met his eyes, unashamed. "There never is."

He did know that. In the almost two years that he had known her she'd never gone out with a guy more than twice. Even if she had a great time she would make an excuse to end it before it got anywhere close to serious. He'd never really wondered about that until now.

"Why not?"

Tears filled her eyes. "You'll understand me a lot better tomorrow." She leaned forward and gave him a hug. "Night, Oliver."

"Felicity," he called after a few seconds, walking over to the door between their rooms.

"Hmm?" She walked back over to him, pulling her hair out of her ponytail.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Of course not."

"Is there something you're not telling us?" He stared into her eyes, searching for answers.

"Yes." She blinked a few times.

"Nothing will change the way we see you." Tentatively, he reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "The way _I_ see you."

The freckles on her nose mesmerized him and he had the sudden urge to kiss every one of them. Felicity's eyes were wide, as if she could tell what he was thinking. "You say that now, Oliver, but…"

He gripped her shoulders. "_Nothing_."

"How much do you know about schizophrenia?" she asked softly.

He shook his head.

"Do you know why I wear such bright colors?" The sudden change in subject confused him. "Because it keeps the darkness away."

"What do you mean?"

"You think that you brought danger and death into my life, but you didn't. I think that you found me because darkness orbits around me." She tugged at the hem of her hot pink tank top. "Everywhere I go bad things happen to the people I love. Ever since I was a little girl."

"None of this is your fault." He pulled her to him, wanting to keep all the bad thoughts away. "You are no way responsible for any of this."

"Then why does it keep happening?" A sob tore through her. "Why does it follow me?"

They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms until the door beeped and Dig came back in. He didn't say anything and Oliver was grateful. The sound of the shower seemed to shake Felicity out of her reverie.

"Good night, Oliver." She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

His eyes followed her as she padded across the carpet, got into bed and snuggled down under the blankets. After she turned off the light, he sat on the floor next to the door with his back against the wall. For an hour he listened to her breathing, wishing he could help her. But he couldn't help when he didn't know how to fix this.


	3. Chapter 3

"Why Smoak?" Oliver asked over breakfast.

"It was my grandmother's maiden name on my father's side." Felicity cut into her pancakes. "That way I wasn't turning my back on _him_."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Dig asked.

She stared at her plate. "When people know, they feel sorry for me. Treat me like I'm fragile. That's why I like Walter so much."

"Walter?" Oliver asked. "He knows?"

"Of course," Felicity said. "I disclosed it in my interview, not to mention my background check. Even knowing though, Walter never treated me any different. He was always nice to me, but it never smacked of pity."

"That's why you wanted to help find him?"

She chewed slowly, gathering her thoughts. "It's very rare for someone to treat me like a normal, functioning person after they know what happened to my family."

Dig reached across the table and put a hand on Felicity's arm. "In case you haven't noticed, Oliver and I are not most people."

"That's an understatement." Felicity put her hand over his. "I know I should have told you sooner, but the longer I waited the harder it was. This trip was a good excuse to bring it up."

They ate mostly in silence, but Felicity watched Oliver. He'd been nice to her last night, but she worried that it was out of pity. Dig hadn't really changed at all, but she could feel Oliver's attitude toward her shifting and it worried her. The day was going to be hard enough without her worrying about it though, so she shoved the thoughts aside.

#

Arkahm Asylum was an imposing building with gothic architecture and it never failed to give Felicity the heebie-jeebies. She held the unwrapped gift for her mother to her chest as they walked up the front stoop. Oliver and Dig stayed a couple of steps behind her when they got inside. She walked over to the receptionist and smiled nervously.

"Felicity Smoak. I'm here to see Dr. Rourke."

The older woman didn't smile back. She clicked a few keys on her computer. "Sit down. He'll come and get you in a minute."

"Thanks so much." Felicity tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She turned to Oliver and Dig and pointed to the chairs. "He'll be here soon."

She couldn't keep still while she waited. She didn't realize how much she'd been fidgeting until Oliver put a hand on her leg to still them. He didn't say anything, but kept his hand there. It comforted her.

"Is Rourke your mother's doctor?" Dig whispered.

Before she could answer the man in question came down the hallway. "Miss Smoak," he said as he shook her hand. "A pleasure to see you again."

"Hello, Dr. Rourke. These are my friends Oliver Queen and John Diggle." She pointed to both men in turn and they each shook the doctor's hand.

"I'm glad you brought friends with you this year," he said. "I know how draining this can be for you and it's nice you have someone close by after going through all the testing."

"Testing?" Oliver asked.

Felicity shoved the notebook and pencils toward the doctor. "I brought these for my mother. Can we see her before we get started?"

"Of course. Right this way." Dr. Rourke turned and walked back the way he'd come.

Oliver grabbed her arm as they followed. "What testing is he talking about?"

"It's just a figure of speech." She shrugged him off.

They stopped in front of a window that was obviously a mirror on the other side. It looked into a common room where several patients were reading, playing checkers, or doing some sort of craft project.

"Wait here." Dr. Rourke instructed. "I'll have your mother brought down and your gift delivered to her."

They stood in a row in front of the window, Oliver and Dig flanking Felicity.

"I did some research on schizophrenia," Dig said softly. For some reason they all felt they had to whisper.

Her heart beat faster. "And?"

"And one thing I learned is that it can be genetic."

Oliver's face whipped toward hers.

She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. When she opened them she saw her mother being led into the room. "That's her."

They watched as she sat down at an empty table. A woman wearing all white put the notebook and colored pencils in front of her. Felicity's mom picked them up and rubbed them affectionately.

"I don't just come here to see her." Felicity's voice was thick with emotion. "I come to have them make sure I don't have it. Most of the time it shows up in late teens or early twenties. My mom's didn't make itself known until she was 24."

Once again Oliver turned toward her, a look of pity on his face.

The sight almost broke her heart. "That's why I don't get involved with anyone, Oliver. Because I could be a ticking time-bomb of crazy. Just like her."

"You're not," he said.

"Want to know one of the symptoms of schizophrenia?" she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Rambling. Babbling. Word salad. Whatever you want to call it."

"This way, Miss Smoak," Dr. Rourke called.

Felicity didn't say a word as she walked away.

#

Even if Felicity hadn't pointed her out, Oliver would have known which woman was her mother. They had the same slim build, the same curly hair, although Gloria Copperton's was a light brown. He watched as the woman opened the notebook, pulled out a red pencil, and began drawing in long, broad strokes.

"She'll be fine," Dig said.

"I know."

"You're worried about her."

Oliver took in a deep breath. "Aren't you? I mean, she's been dealing with this alone for the entire time we've known her. And now we're here and she's…"

"Shutting herself off from us," Dig finished for him.

"Yes."

"Maybe because she's afraid of what she sees in us."

Oliver turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"You heard her at breakfast, the worst thing in the world to her is someone pitying her. Don't you think our concern might look like we feel sorry for her? Whether we change toward her or not, she's changed toward us." Dig stared into the room. "Now that we know, she's going to see it in everything we do for her."

That hadn't occurred to Oliver. "How do we fix it?"

"We don't, man. We just let her work it out for herself."

He clenched his fist. "I hate answers like that."

Dig smiled. "I know you do."

Oliver looked through the window, surprised to find Gloria stand up and move toward them. She held her notebook up to the glass window. Drawn in red pencil was a little girl.

It was obvious that the little girl was Felicity.


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver stared at the drawing Felicity's mother Gloria held up to the glass. She couldn't see him, he knew, but it felt as though she was watching him as he appraised her work.

He took a step back.

"Don't." Dig's voice was hard.

"What?" Oliver didn't look at him.

"Don't go in there. Don't go talk to her. Felicity only just brought us in on this." Dig put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't lose her trust this way."

He knew Dig was right, but the drawing had him mesmerized. It was done in red colored pencil, yet his mind filled in the real colors. It was Felicity at five years old, the age she was when her mother last saw her.

"I'll only be a minute," Oliver murmured.

"Dammit," he heard Dig say.

He walked down the short hallway that led to the common room door. An orderly let him through with a nod.

Gloria had returned to her seat at the table and her back was to him. She was once again drawing in the notebook. He walked up behind her and cleared his throat.

She made no indication that she'd heard him. Her hand didn't falter on the page at all.

He threw a glance toward Dig, but his reflection looked back at him. Felicity could be back any minute, so he should just get out of there. Why had he come in at all?

"Gloria?" He moved to the other side of the table and sat down across from her.

"Hello," she said without looking up. "You're here with her, aren't you?"

"Felicity, yes."

"I know her name." She tilted her chin up and glared at him. "I'm not that crazy."

"How did you know I was on the other side of the mirror?" Oliver asked calmly.

"I could feel you watching me." She went back to her drawing. "Your eyes felt different from hers. I knew she wasn't with you."

"She's talking to Dr. Rourke."

Gloria nodded. "I assumed. I'm sure she's afraid she'll end up like me. And needs that kook to reassure her. But she won't."

"Won't what?"

"End up like me."

Oliver leaned forward. "How do you know?"

She pushed the notebook at him. "Because she's found something to use her goodness for. The angels will leave her alone now."

When he looked down at the drawing she'd just finished it took all his self-control not to run out of the room.

"Who's that supposed to be?" he asked, forcing nonchalance as he pointed to the green-penciled drawing.

She smirked in an all-too-Felicity way. "The man with the green arrows, of course. The police call him The Hood."

He leaned away, pushing the notebook back to her. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"She works for him." Gloria looked him straight in the eye.

"Why do you think that?" Oliver watched her carefully.

Her gaze didn't falter from his. "Because the angels told me."

"Does Dr. Rourke know the angels are speaking to you?"

A spark of anger surged through her eyes. "No. And you won't tell him."

"Why not?"

She reached across the table and grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. "Because I know the truth and I won't keep silent if you don't."

"The truth about what?" he called her bluff.

"About her! Don't you think there are people who want to know who she is and what she does for him?"

When he heard her refer to the vigilante as _him_ he knew she didn't know who he really was. "Felicity. Her name is Felicity."

"I know her name," Gloria hissed.

"Then why don't you use it?" Oliver practically growled.

"Because it means happiness and she doesn't deserve to be happy."

Oliver stood, ripping his hand away from her. Without another word, without a second glance, he charged out of the room. When he stepped outside the door Felicity was there.

He opened his mouth to make an excuse or an apology, but she wouldn't hear it. She slapped him across the face. Tears shone in her eyes and the look on her face broke his heart. Dig was right, he'd lost her trust.

"Felicity –"

"Go wait in the car, you son of a bitch." Her voice was low and quavering with rage.

#

It wasn't until Oliver had turned the corner and was out of sight that Dig spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Why did he go in there?" She was shaking, from head to foot, but she wasn't sure if it was from anger, Oliver's betrayal, or an unnamed fear that seemed to have taken up residence in her the minute she walked into Arkham Asylum.

"I don't know. She came to the mirror and held up a drawing of you. For some reason he had to talk to her." Dig went to touch her, but she moved away. "I think he was trying to help."

"Help?" Her voice was drenched in bitterness. "Do you know the reason I never talk to her, Dig? Why I come up here year after year and never say a word to her?"

He shook his head.

"Because she doesn't deserve to know a damn thing about me. Because I hope that curiosity eats her up. Because I want her to know as little about me as possible so she can't ever hurt me again." The palms of her hands hurt where she dug her nails into them. "And he walked right in and spoke to her. He should have just punched me in the face. It would have hurt less."

They were still standing in front of the common room door. A fact Felicity only realized when she saw her mother staring at her through the rectangle of glass. They made eye contact and she felt her entire body go cold.

Her mother held her gaze for hours, it seemed, until she mouthed some words. Felicity shook her head and Gloria mouthed them again.

"I love you."

Felicity ground her teeth together and stepped out of her mother's line of sight. "I should never have told you. Bringing you two was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Dig said. He opened his mouth to continue, but the look she gave him stopped his words.

"Take Oliver home. I'll rent a car and see you back in Starling City."

"No."

"Yes." She wanted to yell, but settled on lacing her words with the fierceness she suddenly felt. "I have things I need to do here and I don't want either of you to have any part of them."

Dig looked hurt, but he nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

Five days.

Oliver hadn't been able to get a hold of Felicity for five days. As far as he knew she could still be in Gotham City. She'd called in a leave of absence at work (that he managed to turn into paid vacation), she hadn't shown up in the basement below Verdant, and she hadn't been home any of the times he'd stopped by her place. Her phone went straight to voicemail every time he called her.

The days had gotten progressively worse, until today he was wound so tight he felt like he'd come apart.

"Dammit, Oliver!" Dig yelled as Oliver landed a particularly brutal punch. "I'm not going to spar with you if you keep this up."

He bit down on the retort he had ready. Instead, he nodded and walked off the mat.

"I know how you're feeling, man, but you can't keep going like this."

Oliver stopped in front of Felicity's desk and stared at her empty chair. "Do you think she'll ever come back?"

"Serves us right if she doesn't. Far as I'm concerned she was smart to finally get out." Dig took a big swig of water. "It was only a matter of time, I guess."

"You don't blame me?"

Dig gave him a look. "Oh I blame you completely; it was you that betrayed her trust. But it was my fault too. I should have stopped you."

His fists were clenched at his side. "I only want to know if she's okay. Do you think she's even in Starling City?"

"When she wants to be found she'll let us find her." Dig threw his water bottle into the trash can. "Until then no one can hide from us like Felicity can."

"Damn straight."

The sound of her voice made his heart beat faster. He watched as she walked down the stairs. Never had she been more beautiful to him.

"Felicity –" he started.

"Save it." Her voice was hard. "Why don't you go get some take-out, I need to talk to Dig."

"Can I just –"

"Oliver, do as the lady says." Dig gave him an encouraging punch on the back of his shoulder.

Arguments came to mind, but debating something this small seemed ridiculous. "Can we talk when I get back?"

Felicity didn't look at him. "That's the idea."

Emotions warred within in him as he climbed the stairs, but the most overwhelming one was relief. She was safe and she was home and that mattered more to him than anything.

#

Felicity waited until the door clicked shut and she heard the beep of the alarm re-setting. "How have you been, Dig?"

"Worried as hell about you."

"I'm sorry, I just…" She threw herself into her desk chair and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I won't do that again."

Dig leaned over the desk, resting on his elbows. "Run away whenever you need to, but leave me proof of life next time."

She smiled. "I will, I promise." The smile faded away. "What do I do about Oliver?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Kick his ass." The response came quickly. "Yell at him, ignore him, slap him, ask him what he said, what she said. But mostly, I just want to know why."

"She drew a picture of you when you were a little girl. It scared him, I think. He went with his reflex, wanting to protect you." Dig shrugged. "I don't think he even thought about it before he barged in there."

"Typical."

"So, you want to tell me where you've been?" He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't owe me answers, but you look like you want to talk about it."

"Gotham." She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "I talked to Dr. Rourke and learned a few things about my mom. Some kind of disturbing things."

"Like what?"

"She's had a visitor every week for the last two years. Dr. Rourke said that after these visits started her drawings became almost exclusively of me and . . . of the vigilante." Her eyes flicked up to meet Dig's.

He gave a low whistle.

"Does she know about Oliver?" he asked.

"No." Felicity shook her head. "I'm almost positive. I looked through her drawings and none of the ones of the vigilante have enough detail. She is going off of second-hand information."

The door beeped and they both turned to see Oliver walk in with an armful of food.

"Dig," Felicity said softly, "can you give us a minute?"

"I'm going to run up and get some drinks," Dig said loudly. "I think we could all use one or five."

"Thanks, Dig."

Oliver set the food down and turned to her, nervousness radiating from him. "Listen, Felicity –"

"Shut up and listen." She stood up and walked over to him. "You're a selfish son of a bitch, Oliver Queen. You think of yourself first, second, and third. Then, if you have time, other people come into account. I want you to think of this in a way that you can understand."

He nodded.

"The day I found out you were the vigilante, what would you have done if I'd started poking at your scars and demanding stories about each one? What would you have done?"

"I wouldn't have told you about them," he answered quietly.

"No!" Felicity gave a sarcastic laugh. "You would have probably threatened me, definitely would have shut me out, and then you would have given me the cold shoulder for weeks or months until I finally gave up and left. Sound about right?"

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Yes."

"It took me months to get you to even tell me the name of the island. You have yet to tell me about your scars. We've known each other for almost two years and I still have no idea what happened to you." Felicity clasped her hands in front of her, pointing at him with her joined fists. "I trusted you and you spat on that. You decided that you knew what was best for me and my situation."

"If I say I'm sorry, will it mean anything?" he asked, his voice raspy with emotion.

Tears stung her eyes. "I can't work with someone who I can't trust, or worse, can't trust me."

"I trust you!"

"Really?" her voice rose. "You trust me, but not enough to make my own decisions? Not enough to know what I need? If I had wanted someone to talk to my mom, I would have asked! But you didn't trust me to do that."

"What do I do, Felicity? How do I make this better?"

The tears came streaming down her face. "I don't know if you can."


	6. Chapter 6

The air was still thick with tension when Diggle came back with the drinks.

Felicity surreptitiously wiped the tears away from her eyes and smiled as she took the offered beer. She could feel Oliver's eyes still on her, but she made a point of avoiding his gaze.

"You guys okay?" Dig asked, looking back and forth between them.

"I hope we will be," Oliver said quietly.

"Let's eat!" Felicity said too loudly, reaching for her burger and fries. "Can I ask you a question, Dig?"

"Of course."

"I dropped so much into your lap and you just rolled with it." Felicity took a big bite.

"Is there a question in there?" Dig asked with a laugh.

She held up her one finger while she chewed.

"She wants to know how you knew to act that way," Oliver said.

Felicity stared at him and gave a small nod.

Dig took a drink of his beer. "I've dealt with a lot of guys who had trouble adjusting to civilian life when they got home. Some had pretty bad PTSD. I'd like to say I just knew how to deal with it all, but I messed up a friendship pretty badly before I realized he didn't tell me about it so I could fix it. He told me about it so he had someone to share the burden."

Oliver and Dig shared a loaded look.

"I figured it might be the same situation for you," he finished softly. "I won't do anything unless you ask me to, or if you're at risk."

She swallowed her burger, leaned over, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Dig. You're like the big brother I never had."

Silence fell over them as they ate. When they each leaned back, full and satisfied, Felicity cleared her throat.

"There's something I want to ask you." Her hand nervously fluttered to her throat. "Dr. Roarke said that I seem to be fine with minimal signs of schizophrenia, but if I…"

The two men waited for her to get her emotions under control.

"If I start to change I need you to promise me that you'll force me to get help. I'll swear I'm fine, I'm sure, but I need you to promise me. I don't want to end up doing something like she did."

She looked at Dig and he nodded, then she turned her eyes to Oliver. His brows were drawn together and she couldn't read the expression on his face. When she was just about to prompt him again, he nodded.

"Thank you." She stood and started clearing away the garbage. Oliver stood and took everything out of her hands.

"Just relax. I've got this," his voice was soft.

Felicity knew he was apologizing in his own way, but it still wasn't enough. If they were going to keep working together she would have to find a way to forgive him, but she couldn't even imagine how that could happen.

After everything was cleared away Oliver came up to her. "There's something I didn't get a chance to tell you. I think someone has been coming to see your mom."

She threw a look at Dig, but he shook his head. "Why do you say that?"

"Because she knows you work for the vigilante, but not that I'm him."

Felicity nodded. "I found out as much. She's had a visitor every week for a while now. I couldn't find out who it was. The name was a dead-end and in the footage I was able to hack into he made sure to keep his face hidden from the cameras."

"It's a he?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah. He's about six foot, dark hair. I don't know much more than that, the cameras only take black and white footage."

She watched him warring between apologetic Oliver and take-charge Hood.

"What are you thinking?" she demanded.

A surprised look crossed his face. "I am thinking that you're in danger. There's only one person who know for certain that you work for me."

Felicity felt the blood drain from her face. "Helena."

Dig swore and shook his head. "But she knows about you too Oliver, why wouldn't she tell Gloria about you? And who's the guy she's been sending to see Felicity's mom?"

"Someone from Gotham," Felicity said. "Every time he came he was on foot, as if he'd taken the bus or walked."

"I don't pretend to understand Helena's motives, but she's driven by revenge. And the person she's most pissed off at is me." Oliver sat down heavily. "I'm so sorry, Felicity."

She closed her eyes and took a minute to clear her thoughts. "It's fine. If it's really Helena behind it then I don't have to worry about my physical safety. She doesn't care about killing me, she only wants me for help getting information or as a way to get to Oliver."

"You can't know that," Dig said.

"Actually, I can," she said quietly.

Dig raised his eyebrows and Oliver crossed his arms over his chest.

"The last time we met Helena and I had a nice heart to heart," her voice was laced with bitterness. "You guys might think I ramble, but that girl just loved to hear herself talk."

"What did she say to you?" Dig asked.

"Most of it was vitriol directed at Oliver, but one thing she made very clear was that she didn't want to hurt me. Cliché as it is I think she saw herself in me. A victim of circumstances. Before she left me she apologized and said she wished there was another way." Felicity took a deep breath. "I honestly believe she's crazy as bats, but I don't think she'd hurt me. Not if there was any other option."

"So then we're left with another option," Dig said. "If it's not Helena, then she might have told someone else about Felicity. And this someone is digging deep into the past."

"I don't understand why though," she said. "My mom hasn't seen or spoken to me since I was five, what possible insight could she be?"

Oliver ran a hand over his face, looking exhausted. Dig shrugged, out of answers too.

"Well, I guess we'll have to go about business as usual until something else comes up." Felicity moved to her computers. "I'll set up a few things to keep an eye on Arkham, but unless something pings then we can forget this ever happened."

Out of the corner of her eye she could feel Oliver looking at her, she turned to him. "It might take some time forgetting, but I think it's best for everyone."


	7. Chapter 7

_This is why I never take vacations,_ Felicity thought as she stared at the virtual pile of work she had to accomplish. Instead of procrastinating, which was her first impulse, she dove right in.

Two hours later she was forced to come up for air when someone knocked at her door.

"Come in," she called, irritated.

"Delivery for Felicity Smook." A young guy came in carrying some flowers.

"Smoak. That's me."

"Here you go."

She knew she didn't have any cash on her, so she gave him an apologetic smile with her thanks. When the door shut behind him she stared at the bouquet. They were probably from Oliver, some lame attempt to get her to speak to him again. Although the simple bouquet of sunflowers didn't seem his style.

Curious, she grabbed the card. _I know something you don't know._

Her heart beat faster as she read and re-read the words. She stared at the flowers and they tickled at a memory, but she couldn't figure out exactly what or when it was. Just a brief flash of an image. Sunflowers. What did sunflowers have to do with anything?

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to slow down. They were probably from Oliver and the card was supposed to be funny, but ended up just being creepy.

Deciding that was the most plausible, and least scary, option, she gave him a call.

"Hello?"

Her voice shook. "O-Oliver? Did you, did you send me flowers today?"

"No." She could hear his concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure. Someone sent me flowers and the card is giving me the heebie-jeebies." Her aqua nails tapped over the words nervously.

"I'm having lunch nearby. I'll be over in ten minutes." He clicked off without saying goodbye.

Felicity used that ten minutes to call the florist and reach a dead-end. Hack their phone records and reach a dead-end. Before she could think of anything else Oliver swung her door open without knocking.

"Here." She handed him the card.

His eyes scanned over it a few times before he looked at her. "We should call the florist –"

"They paid with cash. It was a non-descript guy who bought them. They were purchased the day we went to see my mom in Arkham."

Oliver nodded. "Maybe they called to check up on –"

"Nope." She gave an irritated sigh. "I checked the phone records. Nothing from Gotham or out of the ordinary, as far as I could tell."

"Do you think this has anything to do with your mom?" he asked.

She stared at the flowers. It was a simple bouquet, wrapped in cellophane with a gray and yellow bow.

"Their wedding," she said softly.

"What?"

Her eyes met his and she said louder, "Their wedding. My mom and dad's wedding colors were gray and yellow. Her bouquet was sunflowers."

They stared at each other.

"What the hell does it mean?" Oliver finally asked. "None of this makes sense."

Felicity ran a hand over her head to smooth her pony tail. "I don't k now what's going on or why it's happening. I feel like I'm going crazy."

Oliver snapped his fingers. "That's it."

"What's it?"

"You are a genius!" He kissed the top of her head and ran out of the room.

"I am," she called after him, "but I still have no idea what the hell is going on. Oliver? Oliver!"

She sent him a sternly worded text message to call her immediately, but knew she wouldn't be hearing from him anytime soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Oliver was in full vigilante attire when Felicity got to Verdant after work.

"Thanks for calling me back," she said sarcastically.

His back was to her and when he didn't respond she walked around to face him. The look on his face made her stomach drop. The green paint was streaked with tears and his eyes weren't focused.

"Where are you?" she whispered. "Come back to me."

No response.

With slow movements she placed her hands on either side of his face and dipped it towards her. Finally he shook out of his reverie and looked at her.

"Felicity?"

She kept her hands on his face. "Where were you just now?"

"You're never going to forgive me." His voice shook with remorse. "I went as fast as I could, but I didn't get there in time. I should have figured it out sooner. I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about?" A wave of panic crashed over her. "What happened?"

Her phone rang. She pulled away to answer it.

"Dr. Rourke?"

"Miss Smoak, I regret to inform you that your mother took her life today. I'm so sorry for your loss." He cleared his throat. "I'd like for you to come here to Arkham as soon as possible."

She hung up without a word and stared at Oliver. He shook his head, apologizing again with his eyes.

"How did you know?" Her voice was even. "That she was going to kill herself. How did you know?"

He seemed surprised by her lack of emotion. "It's a long story."

"So tell me." She leaned on the table, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and looked at him. "Start with the flowers."

Dig came charging into the room, also wearing full vigilante garb. "You tell her about Rourke?"

"Working on it," Oliver said.

"Dr. Rourke?" Felicity's emotions were getting closer to the surface. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Dig came over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "We're here for you."

She patted his hand. "Start with the flowers in my office, Oliver."

"It wasn't the flowers, it was you talking about feeling crazy." He started wiping away the green around his eyes. "I decided to look into Dr. Rourke."

"I had gotten a similar idea," Dig said. "So between the two of us we were able to uncover a lot about him. And his past."

Felicity fidgeted. "What does that mean?"

"His real name isn't Steven Rourke, it's Roddick Stevens. And, under that name, we found a lot of disturbing things that he's done."

Oliver stood. "Don't get into that right now, Dig."

He nodded. "When we focused on his interactions with your mom we found out that he'd been prescribing her drugs for two and a half years _before_ her schizophrenia became apparent. We also found that he'd taken copious notes on her behavior and adjusting her medications accordingly."

"If that's true than her schizophrenia should never have gotten to the point that it did," Felicity's voice shook. "If he was aware of her case then why didn't he prevent what happened to my family? Did she go off her meds?"

Oliver sat down next to her, clasping his hands in front of him. "The meds he was giving her were an experiment."

"So it didn't work?"

"No, it worked really well, actually." Oliver cleared his throat.

"Are you saying Rourke gave my mom schizophrenia?" Her hands shook. "That he made her the way she is? Was?" She stood up and started pacing. "Why would he do that? What could he possibly hope to gain? My family… oh God, my family!"

The emotions she'd been trying to keep pushed down rose to the surface. She dropped to her knees as tears poured out of her eyes. The sobs shook her entire body and she couldn't get herself under control.

Then Oliver was there next to her. He wrapped her in his arms and held her close until she was able to make the tears stop. Her hands gripped the back of Oliver's shirt as she tried to ground herself. She breathed in and out, inhaling his scent until she felt calmer.

"Felicity?" His voice was hoarse. "There's more. Can you handle it or should we wait?"

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, but couldn't let go of him. "Can it wait?

Oliver nodded. "We'll wait until you're ready."

Dig cleared his throat. Oliver turned to look at him. Felicity couldn't see what happened between them, but Dig left, still in his vigilante outfit.

"Where's he going?" Felicity asked.

"To take care of a loose end." His voice was hard.

"I guess I should get home," Felicity said. "I'll be useless here for the rest of the night."

Oliver stood and pulled her to her feet. She gripped his arms to stop him from letting go.

"Will you come with me?" her voice was soft, but pleading. "I can't be alone. I really can't."

"Of course." He pulled her into a hug. "I just need to change and then we can go."

Reluctantly, she let him go. Without him holding on to her she suddenly felt cold and the panic began creeping back in. It was as if Oliver was anchoring her.

"Thank you," she said when he came back. "I'm so sorry for how horrible I've been to you. I couldn't get through this without you and Dig."

Oliver offered her his arm. "May I escort you to your car?"

She smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Thank you, good sir."

When they got to her car he opened the passenger door for her and she turned to look at him. "Do you feel sorry for me?"

"Never." He said sternly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with this alone for so long and I'm sorry for what I did, but I don't feel sorry for you."

That answer made her happy and she got into the car.

"Oliver?" she asked as they drove toward her apartment. "I think I'm ready to hear the rest."

He turned to look at her. "You sure?"

She looked out the window and nodded.

"We found out that Rourke has been dosing you with the same drugs he gave your mom."


End file.
